


High Priest of the Crown

by Kwehlous



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, The Amicitias are Priests
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-23
Updated: 2017-12-23
Packaged: 2019-02-19 01:33:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13113114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kwehlous/pseuds/Kwehlous
Summary: For the past week, Insomnia has been gripped in an odd snow storm. While conversing with the Gods is not something that is done for the whimsy of stopping unfavorable weather changes, this particular storm is isolating and unyielding.Noctis gives Gladio his message to take to the Temple of Bahamut."Figure out what Shiva wants… and… say hello to Iggy for me."





	High Priest of the Crown

**Author's Note:**

  * For [luna_libertatis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/luna_libertatis/gifts).



> For Secret Santa! Hope you enjoy, Luna <3

The weather of the world is like the yearly flu, or the annual infatuation. It is a staple of life-- something that happens no matter whether or not it is desired. Summers are hot, winters are cold, springs bring allergens and insects, and the autumn brings mold and chilly rain.  These are life constants that merely need an adaptive mind to endure as the cycle resets every year.

 

But, much like the persistent cough of sickness or the pang of one-sided love, it can not always be buffered down by grit alone. Sometimes a little help is needed, and in this world, divine intervention is within mortal reach just as the mortals are so often at the mercy of divine touch. In both the weather and heart.

 

\---

 

The winter this year had come early. Much earlier than any other year. And it was cold. Blistering cold, with skin-peeling wind and bullet rain punishing the area. When snow replaced the frigid rain, it stuck fast instead of melting away, collecting over every surface. It solidified overnight from powder to ice mass, only for it to continue throughout the next day, and the next. It was beyond what could be adapted to, and for a week straight, Insomnia was shut down to most commerce as people huddled tight in their homes.

 

Many in the Citadel whispered of something beyond the normal occurring. Perhaps something a bit divine had touched their city. Perhaps this was a sign. Perhaps it was an omen. Perhaps they'd never reconnect with the mainline and Insomnia would freeze over.

 

The people of Insomnia began to fret and complain of their situation, inflaming it, their grit not strong enough to withstand the abnormal winter.

 

The Citadel, despite the shutdown, still found itself with letter upon letter asking for the King to call on the gods' favor. They begged and demanded and pleaded that he does something so that Insomnia may be released from this frigid prison.

 

Luckily, King Noctis was just as irritated as the rest of his people, and had no qualms bugging the Astrals. His council, however, insisted that he not bother the Six for something as petty as the weather. Combined with the pleas of the people and their Monarch's desires, Noctis eventually got his way.

 

Within the hour, Umbra found Gladiolus Amiticia, and bumped his head into his leg that was covered with gorgeous black and gold robes with a soft little whine. The man reached down and gave the messenger a scritch before standing up, bringing his tome with him. "Alright, I'm coming."

 

Following Umbra transported him to Noctis faster than traveling the elevators and stairs of the Citadel, and when Gladio stepped through the next door, he was within Noctis' office chambers, who held a glowing piece of the crystal made into a gorgeous pendant in the shape of a crescent moon.

 

"Finally got that go ahead?" Gladio scoffed,  and Noctis rolled his eyes, approaching his High Priest.

 

"The fact that they waited until most of our generators and back up supplies were down is ridiculous. Hopefully, we haven't waited too long," Noctis grimaced as he reached up on his tiptoes to adorn the necklace around Gladio's neck.

 

The man bent down to meet him halfway, and pulled his hair up to let the chain rest against his bare neck.

 

"Figure out what Shiva wants. And," Noctis began, then gave a tiny little smile, eyes twinkling as much as the crystal piece around his Priest's neck, "say hello to Iggy for me."

 

\----

 

The tome that Gladio held on his person at all times was full of every spell known to the Priesthood of the Six, to which his family had always held the highest standing. The titles changed over time, some being Archbishop, and others being Servant, but in this era, the title was High Priest of the Crown. His family was different from the messengers that the Six placed all over Eos. His was the task of helping the King, chosen by the Six, connect the common people to those they worshipped. Liaison of the ethereal variety.

 

While the King could, technically, talk to the Astrals whenever he wished and bypass him, it was not safe for his Majesty. He was a shield, of sorts, in going to the gods on the King's behalf to speak with them and pass along his will and the will of the people. And speaking to the Astrals, or even one of the higher messengers, could be a trial of the body and soul, often causing great trauma.

 

Gladio was bred and trained to endure all on behalf of his Monarch.

 

The tome assisted in his endeavors to negotiate, affording him spells of protection to himself, and offensive spells in the event of a fight. He was well trained in shields and the occasional greatsword, but thankfully, he hadn't needed to speak to Titan in a while. So far, the only magic he foresaw needing was what he was currently using to trek through Insomnia's blistering blizzard--- a warming Wall of heat that kept the snow from his body. The snow hit an orbital field around him as he continued his trek.

 

The Temple where Gladio summoned the Six was not far, but far enough and secluded enough from the Citadel so as not to put the King in danger. It was located on the Northern most wall, attached to its structure. It was grandiose in its inner architecture, stained glass, stone, and marble working together to create a circular altar in the middle that was maintained by lesser Priests.

 

Gladio was greeted by such a priest on arrival and then told to dismiss the others in attendance. Only Gladio had the fortitude to handle a summoning. Any other priest would perish under their might. He gave it an hour for the Temple to empty, and another few minutes to make sure that the only hints of life had truly cleared out. He heard nothing but the sound of his heart and breath and stark wind outside.

 

In the middle of the altar was an oval statue carved from white marble meant to represent the Crystal that was kept deep within the Citadel. A duplicate, a means to channel energy for summoning or speaking to the gods with an actual piece of the stone itself.

 

The stage was set.

 

"Here we go…" Gladio untucked the pendant from inside his robes. Immediately, the jewel resonated with the statue, causing it to brim with a gorgeous violet aura. The aura spread throughout the temple, warping the surroundings into a blackness that no light could pierce, leaving nothing but Gladio, the statue, and a circle of flooring around the altar.

 

Gladio took his tome from his robes, and it, too, began to resonate with both pendant and statue, all artifacts singing in harmony, eager to fulfill their roles.

 

Gladio held the tome in mid-air, then slowly released it. Instead of following his hands, the tome began to float in the air, drenched in the purple aura. Gladio then rose both hands over the tome and the pages began to flutter, flipping to a page that held a gorgeous ink rendered depiction of the Glacian: A woman with bluish-white skin adorned in jewels no longer found in this world with silk fluttering all over her ankles and wrists to accentuate her grace and beauty.

 

"Hear me, Glacian, who's gripping chill grants renewal to barren lands, preserves, and keeps our air free of poison. Hear me, Froastbearer, who carves grit into those who withstand her yearly embrace. I call upon thee--- grant me your audience."

 

He would never get used to hearing himself speak words of old. But he spoke them with conviction, and after chanting his opening plea, the statue began to freeze over. Flecks of snowflakes covered it until it was surrounded in a sheet of ice, mist fluttering off and filling the altar room with fog.

 

Gladio kept his hands up and over the tome, focused on his mana, even as his breath began to frost from his nose.

 

Harder and harder the stone statue froze until it cracked, splitting open from the front. Wind and snow and sleet pierced forth from the cracks, whipping and surrounding the area into a replica of the outside. Gladio summoned another Wall, but he knew he couldn’t rely on it for long. He had to last the whole ordeal.

 

He grimaced as he felt his skin tighten and dry from the horrid cold, his cheeks beginning to chaff. He distracted himself by watching his surroundings: The floor turned into a slippery slate of frost. The purple aura was all but replaced with that of a blue one, and finally, the pendant around his neck changed from the purple of the crystal to the blue of the Glacian.

 

She was here. Or rather, Gladio would be surprised if she was here. Honestly, he was expecting someone else. When a body emerged from the blinding light coming from the crack statue, Gladio smirked when his prediction was correct.

 

The Six rarely came when Gladio summoned them. Either they sent their will down or they sent an avatar of themselves. Both presentations caused great turmoil to their surroundings, either by deluge, or hellish heat, or skin-breaking cold.

 

More and more frequently, it wasn't their will they sent when called, but that of their chosen avatar, and there he stood in the guise of Shiva.

 

It was always a man, slim, yet contoured in muscle, with strong hands and nimble features and the sharpest pair of eyes Gladiolus had ever seen. His hair was always short, but until the guise of Ifrit or Titan, his hair would stand up and away from his face, rippling with earthly or fiery power. Under the guise of Leviathan or now, as Shiva, his hair was soft and settled along his forehead, dancing in front of his eyes.

 

He looked just like her save for his masculine features, adorned in her jewelry and silks. He slipped from the statue as one would slip from bed and stretched his arms up and out while standing on his tip toes. When he exhaled, arms flopping back to his sides, the wind stopped, and all was still. It began to snow in the alter instead, casting everything back into the silence.

 

Gladio did not give the avatar a name, finding it disrespectful. Noctis called him 'Iggy', short for Ignis, as if to continue to give recognition to whom the avatar used to be.

 

"Gladiolus. A pleasure to see you again," the avatar spoke, his words echoing in both the altar and his mind. He approached, each step causing the snow he stepped on to hard freeze into ice.

 

Gladio swallowed and kept his stance, hands still over his floating tome. "The honor is mine."

 

He always had a difficult time looking the avatar in the face, especially when he took on certain guises. In short, he was not impervious to what his eyes liked, and while he was trained to stay focused on relaying messages from the King, his body always stirred pleasantly when he beheld the splendor of the avatar.

 

His favorite guise was always that of Shiva.

 

The avatar continued his approach until he was but a few steps away. By then, he opted to float, his silks fluttering around him as he came face to face with the priest. Gladio shuddered as terribly cold fingertips cradled his chin and forced his eyes into that of his, all lovely blue with a mix of green, hints of his old humanity still inside.

 

"What can I do for you, Gladiolus?" he whispered, breath like a lovely brisk breeze of fresh air in the morning.

 

Gladio almost forgot the issue, but the chill reminded him of the plight beyond the Temple. He shivered, the avatar's proximity to him causing his body temp to plummet. He restored his protective spell, and the avatar pouted and removed his hand, mist hissing from his fingers from the heat now radiating from the Priest's skin.

 

"Our city's been locked in a snowstorm for the past week. It's taking its toll, and we suspect the Glacian is behind it. I'm here to ask if she is, and if so, how to appease her to have a little mercy."

 

The avatar then floated away, exiting the circle of the altar and disappearing into the blackness. After a moment, he returned from the other side of the circle, humming. "What right horrid weather you're having."

 

Gladio huffed. "You're observant as ever."

 

The man chuckled and floated down to his feet in front of the hovering book and Gladio. He touched the book and it floated away like a toy boat being poked on a lake and wading off into the distance. Gladio swallowed, but didn't fret--- he had most of the tome memorized. Most of it.

 

He continued to hold out his hands, cupping them in front of his body and using the space as a focal point of his mana to continue to heat his body even as the avatar began to circle him. His blue fingertips played with the tails and golden trinkets of his robes, freezing the fabric as he did.

 

Gladio expected the avatar to dodge his request for a while, and, unfortunately, he was right. But this was a high messenger of the gods-- he would not show irritation or impatience. He was but a servant fulfilling a role. He needed to stay focused.

 

_Focus… Don't think about the cold… or how gorgeous those lips are… or if your full cock will fall off in this cold._

 

"What is the extent of the damage?"

 

Gladio held back a frown, keeping his face neutral. "Most commerce is at a standstill. Cars and trains and tram systems are locked down. Some subways are running, but not many. Generators are beginning to shut down without proper fuel from Lestallum to get to us."

 

"Not too many without proper heat, I hope?"

 

"We're used to bad winters, but the shelters are suffering big time. I won't say there aren't some deaths."

 

"Mnh… is Noct warm, at least?"

 

An offhanded question, but one that Gladio wasn't surprised by either. The human the avatar once was had been close to Noctis and known to many. Gladio indulged him, and not only because of obligation. He allowed himself to smile.

 

"He's warm, but complaining. His Majesty says 'hey', by the way."

 

The avatar rose a hand to his face and chuckled, and the area twinkled briefly from the mirth in his heart. "Hello to him as well. And… to you. I wish I could see you more often." The last bit was whispered right into his ear and Gladio's whole body shook with great discomfort, but unbridled arousal, causing his skin to freeze up only to thaw out from lust.

 

 _Focus… focus…_ He exhaled brokenly, regaining composure. Only then did he respond. "To call you when I don't need you would be sacrilege. And just a waste of your time, really."

 

"Time is all I have," the avatar sighed, and walked away from the priest, once again unable to rile him. He turned about, began to float, and crossed his legs daintily as if sitting in a chair.

 

Gladio's shoulders slumped when it seemed the avatar was done being elusive and began to explain the circumstance.

 

"To answer your inquiry, yes. The Glacian is within your realm. She is speaking with the Tidemother, and if you were able to leave your city, you would find your waters rippling in rage and irritation instead of being frozen solid as they should be this time of year."

 

The High Priest stayed silent, allowing the avatar to continue his explanation.

 

"The Glacian often needs to purge the seas in order to continue the cycle and refresh the waters for new life and possibilities. However, it seems the Tidemother is being hostile and refusing to back down from your shores, causing unseasonable warm coastal tides. In order to counteract this, Shiva has intensified her magic."

 

"Is there a reason why the Tidemother is upset?"

 

The avatar rolled his eyes. "Sneeze into a lake and she is displeased."

 

Gladio did not smirk.

 

"It would seem that her seas are already waning in life. Possibly from overfishing, if I took a wild guess."

 

"Oh…"

 

"Oh indeed. Did Insomnia has a prosperous Summer and Autumn this year?"

 

"Yeah, we did. Alright, hold back on the fishing next year. Got it. Is there anything else that could get Shiva and Leviathan away from here sooner?"

 

"I suppose I could speak directly to Shiva. Explain the situation. The warm seas should help thaw your city within the month, but no further blizzard activity would occur."

 

Gladio waited for it, and when the silence extended between them, the avatar smirked and floated back over to the High Priest, hands extending to him. He didn't touch this time, still feeling Gladio's protective spell to keep his body from freezing. But the avatar stayed as close as they could, their gorgeous body all for Gladio to behold, but he kept his focus, gaze strictly at eye level to the messenger.

 

" 'What is he going to ask of me', is probably what you're pondering," the avatar whispered, and there was that fresh bracing air again from his breath as it washed over his face and through his neck and across his flesh, making his nipples raise against his robes and his cock swell within his breeches. And yet, he stayed neutral, with not even a quivering lip to hint at his lust.

 

The avatar hummed and tapped a finger to Gladio's nose. "You need do only one thing for me and I'll pass along your request to the Froastbearer."

 

Gladio swallowed and waited, bracing to hear the request of the High Messenger of the Six, to make sure that he remembered every word he spoke so he wouldn't have to repeat himself, and so he could inform his King promptly.

 

What he got was that same finger tracing his parted lips despite the hiss that occurred from his icy body touching his warmed skin. The avatar's eyes went slighted crossed as he watched his lips and his finger together.

 

"Speak my old name. I have no reason, only that I desire to hear it on your tongue. So, before I go, speak the name. Give me the pleasure of your voice wrapping around my old identity."

 

"You flatter me," Gladio managed, resisting the urge to close his lips and slip the blue digit along his tongue. But that would be an overstep-- the High Messenger was not an outlet, no matter how flirtatious or forward they may be.

 

"You flatter _me_ in granting my request, Gladiolus. Now. Go on," the avatar pressed, and the look in his eyes, both godly and so human, asserted authority whether consciously or unconsciously.

 

"It was a pleasure seeing you again, Ignis…"

 

"Say it like he says it."

 

"Iggy."

 

Those eyes held just the tiniest bit more of green in them in that instant, and the messenger smiled a sad, but sated, smile.

 

"A pleasure seeing you as always, Gladiolus. I shall tell the Glacian of your plea."

 

As the avatar -as Ignis- floated backwards towards the statue, Gladio placed a hand over his chest and bowed, similar to the salute to the King, but less with power and more with grace. He kept his head down as Ignis entered the light of the statue, and, as if time itself was reverting, all structural damage to the statue was erased, the cracks and freeze burn disappearing.

 

Light returned to the edges of the alter circle, realty coming back to the Temple, and the crystal around Gladio's neck turned to dust.

 

The tome fell from where it'd been floating with a startling thud, and Gladio flinched. It was over. And while his body started to regain feeling in his toes and ears, his chest was tight and his throat was thick.

 

"Iggy…"

 

There was no time to miss the avatar. He had a message to pass along.

 

\---

 

"He seem well?"

 

"As well as a demigod can be, I suppose."

 

Noctis signed the document and took care in folding it away into an envelope. As he sealed it with wax, he rose his eyes up to look to Gladio. "He… say anything else?"

 

"Hoped you stay warm, and 'hello'."

 

"Tch, he was probably too happy to see you," Noctis grinned and slid the sealed envelop to the side to present to council later.

 

"I'm not sure about that," Gladio grumbled, crossing his arms.

 

"Like demigods can't have favorites?" Noctis said, leaning back in his chair with the same smug grin. Gladio merely gave him a half-hearted glare, but he could feel his ears burning a little.

 

\---

 

A week or so later, the city was functioning normally, the citizens putting in the effort and time to clear the streets for commerce and activity. With the snow no longer falling, people actually began to enjoy it, and all manner of shenanigans could be seen from the Citadel windows of people playing and romping about.

 

Gladio watched from his chambers, hot mug of chocolate in one hand. He turned from the window to smile at the table where a tiny box laid open and revealing a trinket in the shape of an ice crystal.

 

Umbra had given him the trinket that morning, coupled with a note that read: "Call upon me more often."

 

Touching it brought forth the memory of chilly fingers against his lips. He took a sip of the hot chocolate to churn down the desire that tickled forth. He was a High Priest-- such temptation would always be there, especially from that particular messenger. A good priest would continue to resist the lulling charm of gods above him.

 

It was so hard to be a good priest sometimes.


End file.
